


for now we rest

by bex_xo



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Cousin Incest, Cunnilingus, F/M, Masturbation, Mostly show canon, post s6ep9, references to past abuse, this is practically pure smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 22:18:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7286806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bex_xo/pseuds/bex_xo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since the revelation that's changed their entire dynamic, he's allowed himself to give her a handful of kisses, more or less chaste in an attempt to control his baser needs. </p><p>Neither of them are maids, as they both know well, but Ned Stark raised him to be a honorable man. Honorable men didn't take their betrothed to bed the moment a marriage was agreed upon, no matter their feelings towards their intended. </p><p>Fuck his honor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	for now we rest

**Author's Note:**

> written for gameofshipschallenges 7Hells Day Three: Lust

She stands in front of him in nothing but her shift, made nearly translucent from the light of the fire burning in the hearth behind her.  
  
Waves of auburn, unbound for the day, frame her face and fall across her shoulders, it grazes the top of her rib cage, disguising the soft lines of her breast and waist, looking like flames from the way that the firelight dances across it.  
  
She is a sight.  
  
She is beauty and grace.  
  
She is ice and fire.  
  
Most of all, she is his as he is hers.  
  
“Sansa.” His voice comes out barely above a whisper, half strangled with desire and trying to keep himself in check.  
  
“Jon” She all but purs, demurely taking another step closer towards the chair he currently sits in.  
  
Her long fingers toy with the laces at the top of her shift, working on the knots that keep it from falling open across her breast. How he longs to be the one untying it for her, to undress her carefully, piece by piece, brushing his lips across all the newly exposed flesh.  
  
He knows himself well enough to know that would never be the case. His self restraint has been questionable at best in regards to Sansa these past few moons, and he would just as likely cut her out of her pretty things as he would to take his time and enjoy the act of undressing.  
  
The attraction had been easy to ignore at first, all those moons ago when they first reunited. She was his sister, on the run from her psychopathic husband, experiencing very real trauma, and the only family he had left. At the same time he had just died and been brought back, dealing with his own onslaught of emotions and trauma from the past few months.  
  
The things he felt for Sansa had very easily been wrapped up in being reunited with family, in the urge he had to protect her, in being in close proximity to a woman for the first time since Ygritte.  
  
When it all changed, finding out the truth of his birth and parentage, he finally let himself really feel the things he did for Sansa. Passion, love, lust.  
  
What kind of man lusts for their former sister?  
  
Sansa takes another step closer, the top of her shift finally loosening and falling off her shoulders, exposing a sweet expanse of milky white skin his fingers itch to touch. Her impossibly long eyelashes fan out across her cheekbones, her head bowed as she pulls the last of the knot apart at her chest.  
  
She glances up at him, through her lashes, holding his eye contact as she lets her arms drop, the thin piece of material she was wearing pooling at her feet on the floor.  
  
The groan that escapes his lips is involuntary, biting his lower lip as his fingers grip tightly to the arms of the chair he still sits in, fully clothed in the garb she picked for their betrothal feast. Jon closes his eyes and focuses on his breathing, pushing and pulling the needed oxygen into his lungs, willing his cock to soften from where it presses painfully hard against his breeches.  
  
“Jon?” Sansa asks, in the pleading sort of way of hers that makes him come undone.  
  
Steeling himself, he opens his eyes back up, and there she is, in all her glory, standing inches from his knees. A silver of pink tongue swipes across her mouth, wetting her lips, and it shoots straight to his cock against his better intentions.  
  
Since the revelation that's changed their entire dynamic, he's allowed himself to give her a handful of kisses, more or less chaste in an attempt to control his baser needs.  
  
Neither of them are maids, as they both know well, but Ned Stark raised him to be a honorable man. Honorable men didn't take their betrothed to bed the moment a marriage was agreed upon, no matter their feelings towards their intended.  
  
Fuck his honor.  
  
“You are so fucking beautiful.” He says, hands coming up to rest around her waist, pulling her closer, breathing her in.  
  
“I thought you didn't want me.” She admits in a small voice, arms coming up to circle around his neck.  
  
“I'd be a fool to not want you Sansa. It has been very complicated, all of this.” His hands roam the expanse of skin on her back, and he marvels at the gooseflesh they leave in their wake.  
  
“I thought you were disgusted by me. What kind of woman lusts for her former brother?” Sansa sighs, twisting the curls at the nape of his neck between her fingers.  
  
His arms curl around her, pulling her fully into his lap, acutely aware that his erection is pressed up against her thigh but finding he no longer cares.  
  
“Kiss me Jon. Kiss me for real.” She begs, and its more the look in her eye that breaks him than it is her nude body resting against his.  
  
He starts slow, presses his lips softly and fully against her own, molds them together as he captures the base of her skull in one hand. Manipulating the angle of her face against his, he slides his tongue into her mouth when she whimpers out a moan. Sansa tastes like the wine they drank at the feast, rich and dark, just a little bitter, with hints of berry and honey, and Jon reckons it tastes better from her mouth than it ever did from his goblet.  
  
Sansa pulls apart from him then, briefly enough to move herself into straddling his lap, her center pressed wet and hot against his breeches. Jon still resists the urge to buck up into her, or to grab her hips and grind her down on his aching cock. He knows the horrors she has experienced at the hands of lesser men, and she will set the pace tonight.  
  
“Touch me Jon.” Sansa whines against his lips, guiding his hands to her breasts between them.  
  
The weight of them feel right in his hands, the skin softer than he ever imagined it would be. Jon rolls one erect nipple with his thumb, continuing the ministration when Sansa lets out a tiny mewl, arching her back into his touch while pulling her lips away from his own.  
  
He takes the opportunity to kiss his way down the column of her neck, sucking a bloom on to her clavicle when she holds his head to that very spot.  
  
“More Jon. Make me feel good.” She pants in his ear, and he is suddenly a man possessed.  
  
Hauling her up in his arms, he stands from the chair where he has been sitting, kicking it out of the way in haste to get her to his bed. To make her feel good, oh so good.  
  
Sansa is pulling at his clothes as he very carefully walks her over to his bed, loosening the knots on his doublet and tunic, trying to get him as naked as she is. As he lays her down across the furs of his bed, he toes off the soft leather boots he wore with his finery tonight, kicking them off and across the room.  
  
Sansa is quick at sitting up and working at the knot in the laces of his breeches. Her delicate fingers brush against cock, making it jump and his hips thrust forward at the contact. Jon busies himself with pulling off his doublet and tunic, being careful not to tear the fine work Sansa had put into them, but all the while being desperate to be out of these clothes and into the arms of the woman on his bed.  
  
Finally he peels away the last layer of clothing while Sansa finishes the knot she has been working on. Jon shimmies his way out of his breeches, leaving himself in just his smallclothes before climbing unto the bed and covering Sansa's body with his own.  
  
Her kiss is searing, teeth and lips, nails raking down the muscles in his back as they are practically trying to inhabit each others bodies. The only way he could be closer would be to be seated fully inside her, but there is something he would like to do to her first.  
  
“Sansa. You said you want to feel good.” He half groans as she wraps her legs around his hips, pulling him flush to her.  
  
“This feels good.” She moans, kissing any bit of skin she can find. The wet of her has soaked through his smallclothes and the self restraint he has been struggling with is very close to faltering.  
  
“Aye, it does. But there is something else. If you trust me, it will be good for both of us.” Jon whispers against her skin, reaching behind him to unwrap her legs and place them firmly on the bed.  
  
Sansa just nods, smiling sweetly at him as he starts to kiss his way down her body. He takes his time to suckle on one nipple and then the other, leaving them as glimmering wet peaks as he continues down his path to her cunt.  
  
He is met with little resistance when his intentions become apparent, Sansa spreading her thighs to make room for his body as he reaches his destination.  
  
“You have got to have the prettiest cunt there is Sansa.” He tells her, running a finger through her wetness before placing a kiss on the inside of her thigh.  
  
Jon presses his mouth to her cunt, kissing it in the same manner as he had her mouth earlier. Sansa's response is instantaneous, the cry falling from her lips in the most beautiful way. Jon grins against her flesh at the sound, pressing another kiss to her center as her ankle wraps itself around his shoulder, holding him in place.  
  
Now he starts licking at her in earnest, swiping his tongue up her slit and relishing in the taste of her. Lemons and honey, it's strong but not unpleasant. He wraps his arms around her hips, pulling her closer to his mouth as his tongue finds that bundle of nerves that he knows will give her the most pleasure. He focuses his attention on that spot, lashing it again and again as she cries out his name and twists his hair in her fingers.  
  
She is getting close, the way her hips are moving against his mouth makes him certain of it. He is also embarrassingly close to coming as well and he's not even inside her yet. Jon eases himself out of his smallclothes, taking his cock in hand while continuing his ministrations on Sansa's cunt.  
  
He licks deeply into her center, fucking her in earnest with his tongue while wrapping his hand around his cock, giving himself a long pull much to his on relief.  
  
Sansa's little mewls and pants have turned into full out moans and cries at this point, and it's only egging him on. Wrapping his lips around her, he sucks hard as her legs freeze up and a sound that is closer to a growl escapes her throat before she half screams his name. Working her down from her peak, he places lingering kisses on her cunt while relishing in the taste of her for a moment longer.  
  
Jon rolls off of her while she continues to pant, his hand still a steady pace on his cock while she lays there boneless. She would wrap her hand around him, take him inside her and ride out a second peak, he knows this full well, but he wont last much more than a single thrust.  
  
Instead he increases the tempo of his hand, bringing himself to the abyss with the taste of her still lingering in his mouth. When he comes it's with her name on his lips, her eyes holding steady with his own before she leans over to steal a kiss.  
  
His breathing comes hot and heavy as Sansa lays her head against his chest, curling herself into him as he wraps his arms around her waist.  
  
“I've never felt so good.” She murmurs, fingers tracing the scars left by the blades of his brothers.  
  
“Plenty of other ways to feel good too. We have time to get to that later though. For now we rest.” Jon says as his eyes grow heavy, pulling his furs up and over them.  
  
“Yes, for now we rest.”

 


End file.
